


Found but Lost

by sabbathgoat



Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019)
Genre: Alcohol, Cocaine, Drugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of blow jobs, Slight Smut, high nikki, just some sad shit, nothing actually happens though, petting, set in the 80s, theater of pain tour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:54:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22565854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabbathgoat/pseuds/sabbathgoat
Summary: (Just a quick, sad drabble of Mick/Nikki set in 1985)Mick had just wanted a quiet night of actual sleep alone on the tour bus while his bandmates partied their incoherent brains out. Too bad said bandmates were fucking maniacs- and that one of them couldn't seem to stay away.
Relationships: Mick Mars/Nikki Sixx
Comments: 7
Kudos: 27





	Found but Lost

**1985**

Mick Mars could not remember what number month it fucking was since they began the Theatere of Pain tour. Wherever they were staying currently was freezing his balls off, if that was any indication. No snow fell outside, but the landscape was so bleak and dull that he decided easily to leave the afternoon party early after just two hours. They had rocked a nearly three hour long show and his back was killing him, the alcohol he was pounding down unable to tame the constant irritation. The loud music and naked girls hanging all over Nikki, Tommy, and Vince had started getting hadnsy with him too. And while usually he would play along, tonight he just wasn't in the mood.

He let himself into the tour bus, finally able to catch some peace and quiet all alone as the other boys went feral on the town. He set his bottle of vodka on a table, sitting on the leather couch with a wince. He worried through the waves of intoxication flooding his mind about something happening to the other three, but decided that trusting them for one night was worth the reward of relaxing properly.

Only one small nightlight that seemed to remain on at all times cast the bus in a yellow glow, and Mick was suddenly much too tired to keep himself in a sitting position. He lifted his sore legs as he laid his body across the couch, rubbing a drunken hand over his face. He knew he should shower the sweat, makeup, and grime from the show off, but alcohol made his feet just a little too heavy to carry. _Oh well._ It's not like poor hygiene was a stranger to them at times like these.

 _Quiet_.

He hadn't had a quiet night in, well... however fucking many months it had been. He still couldn't remember. They had all four spent every night bouncing between clubs, house parties, bars, and everything inbetween. They drank more alcohol than they did water, and the Terror Twins had probably snorted more pounds of cocaine than their own damn body weight. Mick wanted to scold them for such reckless behavior- but really hadn't been any better himself. He wasn't snorting blow anymore, but he was pretty sure he had consumed enough bottles of Jack Daniel's to fill the damn bus.

_Oh well. Fuck it. His back fucking hurt._

Mick's heavy eyes eventually fell closed under his unruly bangs, his already unstable mind falling off the cliff of consciousness that it had been dangling on all week.

_Quiet... it was finally fucking quiet..._

No more parties. Just him, his vodka, and the still, silent, night...

Until it wasn't.

When the door flew open only thirty minutes after Mick had found refuge alone in the safety of the vehicle, the guitarist jumped out of his skin into a sitting position with a painful gasp. His back burned at the sudden movement, and he gripped the cushions to avoid crying out at the blinding pain. His eyes could barely see shit in the darkness, but they made out a skinny shadow of a figure stumbling like a wild monkey up the stairs and into the bus. The person grabbed everything in sight to avoid falling face first onto the floor, mumbling something under their breath. Mick tried to stand up, but the pain in his body and his dizzy drunken spell refused to help him out. He thought for a moment that someone had finally busted in, and was about to rob them blind right after shooting Mick in the head. This was how he died; his bandmates would find his dead body, draw a dick on his forehead, and then take the pictures for the fucking news article.

The guitarist tried one more time to stand, to go find the gun he had in his bunk, but only made it halfway out of his seat when he actually heard what the intruder was saying.

" _Miiiiick?!"_ They whined.

Mick blinked, sitting back down in slow motion.

" _Nikki?_ " He hissed. The amount of rage in his voice apparently didn't stop his out of control friend as he crawled on all fours up the stairs. The door to the bus swung shut again on its own, after having been ripped open full force with the unnatural strength of a doped out 27 year old.

 _"Mick, where are you!?"_ Nikki sounded like he was crying.

"What the fuck Nikki!?" Mick's mind suddenly wasn't so drunk, because the amount shock in his brain didnt leave much room for anything else.

 _"Mick, I thought I lost you!"_ Nikki cried out, stumbling on two legs over to his friend. Mick held his arms out to keep Nikki back, but the bassist slipped right under them at high speed and crashed into his chest.

Mick clenched his jaw at the force as he was knocked into the back of the couch, Nikki crawling up to sit in his lap. His too small leather pants threatened to rip as his legs came up to sit on either side of Mick's thighs, and the bass player shoved his face right against Mick's cheek.

He smelled awful, but looked even worse from what Mick could see in the dim lighting. He could feel the sweat dripping off him despite the frigid temperatures, his hair was a fucking rat's nest, and he was pretty sure Nikki's crotch was soaking wet.

"Nikki, calm the fuck down before I punch you," Mick leaned back away, pushing desperately at his young friend to get out of his face. "What's wrong with you!?"

"You left early! I thought you died!" Nikki held his friend's face in his filthy hands as he leaned forward to place a quick, sloppy kiss on his lips.

Mick saw red.

 _"Nikki, I swear to fucking god if you don't get off me, I'm going to lock you out of the bus."_ The threatening growl was finally enough to seep through the wall of blow that currently covered Nikki's mind. The bassist pouted, and slipped off his lap, kneeling on the floor. He made something like a whining noise, hands holding Mick's thighs as his chin rested on his knee.

The guitarist finally caught his breath, taking in deep inhales as the searing pain in his spine finally died down to its usual ache.

" _Sorry_..." Nikki mumbled, sounding genuinely upset while kissing his knee with sloppy lips. "All better?" He half heartedly teased.

"It's okay..." Mick mumbled. He wiped at his dry eyes, debating if he wanted to turn a brighter lamp on and see the damage Nikki had done to himself... He decided against it. "Now what's wrong with you? Why the fuck would I be dead? I told you I was leaving."

"I forgot..." Nikki frowned, pouting up at him with eyes that could send any puppy running for hills.

Mick said nothing. Nikki was still dressed in his insane leather get-up, fresh from what smelled like a nasty strip club. His hair was worse than Mick originally thought, but his busted knuckles and smeared makeup looked even more tragic. He was panting slightly through his nose, and Mick worried he had ran all the way back to the bus.

"Did you walk here?"

"No, I ran." _Worries confirmed._ "No one knew where you went, so first I went to the bar down the street, and then here."

The anger in Mick dissolved immediately away into sadness.

"Nikki..." he whispered. He looked his friend in the eyes, but saw nothing he wanted to. Just a drunken ride being driven by a demon- Nikki Sixx somewhere in the backseat. He lifted his hand to rub a thumb over the young man's eyebrow, smoothing it out. Nikki's eyes fell hooded at the touch as he gazed up at Mick, never looking away from his icy blue eyes.

 _"Can I come back up?"_ He whispered as his fingers gently prodded Mick's hips.

Mick debated it, but figured his friend had been through enough shit for one night.

"Sure."

Nikki crawled up immediately, curling at his side and resting his face in Mick's lap. His wild eyes closed as he itched his nose violently with the back of his hand. He snorted in a messy inhale, and Mick could only imagine the absolute shit he'd been snorting all night. The older man dropped his head back on the couch in exhaustion, staring at the roof debating what he would do next with the animal in his lap. He decided to start with running a hand through Nikki's sweaty, greasy hair in soothing pets. Itching his scalp with his fingertips, running the long black strands through them, holding the ends, letting them fall, then repeating the motion. Nikki moaned in pleasure, rolling his body over onto his back like a dog while his legs spread open. He reached a hand up to gently grip Mick's wrist with uncoordinated fingers, but simply held it as he followed Mick's massage. Eventually he did pull to guide the hand from his hair and over to his neck, Mick obeying as he began stroking up and down Nikki's throat. The bassist groaned again, tipping back exposing it a little more.

At least he was a good hand warmer in this sucky weather, Mick mused to himself. The heat coming from the younger man was insane, and Mick was honestly a little jealous. He played with the chain choker around his neck as his fingers went by, thinking about how Nikki really was like a fucking annoying dog currently.

 _"Rub my tummy,"_ Nikki begged in a breathy plea after only a few minutes, pushing his shirt up from under his leather suspenders for Mick. He did as he was asked, slipping his fingers under the straps to massage his bare side. He pressed his thumb into Nikki's ribs, kneading his fingers into his thick back muscles that had been built from their years of hard rocking. Softly he rubbed Nikki's smooth stomach between the valley of his ribcage, feeling the heat radiating off him. Nikki moaned again, as Mick's hand slid up under the rest of his shirt to feel over his pec muscles. He went back down to Nikki's lower abdomen, pushing just right causing the younger man to squirm in delight. _"That feels so fucking good, them strippers got nothin' on you old man..."_

Nikki faced his head towards Mick's body after a moment, and suddenly shoved his nose into Mick's crotch, causing the guitarist to jump in his seat. Nikki inhaled deeply through his nose, smelling Mick's dick behind his leather pants. He nosed harder against him, burying his face between the man's legs as he rolled a little more over to get as close against him as he could.

 _"Nikki, fuckin' watch it!"_ Mick tried to pull the guy's face away by his hair, but apparently Nikki's pain tolerance had vanished as the bassist only grinned, sniffing deeply again. He tried to get his nose down lower to butt at Mick's balls, but the guitarist used his other hand as well to do his best at yanking his head up. Nikki still didn't obey, laughing loudly while Mick fought by keeping his legs tightly closed and preventing him from going any further. A low growl of disapproval was the only warning before Nikki opened his mouth and bit Mick's inner thigh. It wasn't hard enough to hurt, but the press of his teeth through his pants was enough to scare the guitarist into dropping his head for a split second.

 _"You smell fucking good, old man, let me sniff it!"_ He shouted into Mick's pants.

"Stop being so fucking weird!" Mick tried to have some sort of authority in his voice, but his own alcohol level was only hindering him. He couldn't stop the shocked smirk that nervously pulled at his lips at the entire situation. His dick also seemed to think it was just a little bit funny, betraying him as his pants suddenly got a lot tighter. He tried one more time to rip Nikki away, but he couldn't compete with the younger man's drugged up strength.

Nikki gripped his painful hips with one hand and used the other to spread Mick's legs. He nosed hard against Mick's privates, sniffing again so violently that Mick could hear the snot in the back of his head.

 _"Mmmmmm_ , _"_ he moaned in pleasure, nearly feral sounding, and Mick could only wonder what the fuck was so good about his damn dick smell. _"You're good,"_ he growled.

"You're so fuckin' odd..." Mick sighed, letting go of Nikki's hair as he surrendered.

 _"I like you,"_ he giggled into Mick's erection.

"Shut up." The guitarist didn't know what else to say. He lifted his hips up a little to pull at his tight pants, adjusting them against his friends damn head and his own arousal.

They sat like that for a few minutes, Nikki falling limp in his twisted position- legs still spread wide as his head worshiped Mick's waist.

_"'n blow y-?"_

"What?" Mick looked down at him. His brows furrowed in irritation, his aroused dick twitching in his pants.

 _"Can I blooooooow yoooouuuu?"_ Nikki sang, grinning like a cat as he tested the waters by giving a quick lick to Mick's bulge.

 _"Fuck no!"_ Mick shouted loudly, rage once more filling his entire body at the whole damned situation. He panicked and pushed Nikki away so hard so suddenly that the guy fell off the couch and hard to the floor.

 _"OW, FUCK!"_ He nearly screamed, thrashing around.

"Oh, _fuck_ Nikki! I'm so sorry, I-I didnt mean to, _shit_ -" Mick leaned forward in horror at himself as he grasped at Nikki's shoulder. He expected a fist to meet his teeth at full force, knowing how hot headed Nikki was when he was high... But Nikki only whined loudly, grinning yet again through the pain he probably didn't feel but knew was inflicted.

 _""s okay old man, still love ya-"_ he giggled deeply, reaching a limp hand up to clumsily cup Mick's blushing cheek. He patted it in what was meant to be an act of endearment, but really came out diminishing in his intoxicated state.

The guitarist looked down at him with forlorn eyes.

 _"Love you a whole, whole lot.._. _You're the only one I like in this band,"_ Nikki gazed up at him from the floor with what Mick could only describe as lovesick eyes.

It worried him greatly. But he decided that all he could do now was just play along. At least, playing was what he hoped it was...

"That's not true. You like Tommy," He whispered, rubbing Nikki's shoulder softly.

Nikki closed his eyes for a moment at the touch, head lolling to the side.

 _"Mmmm, I guess..."_ he grinned his famous crooked smirk.

"Come here," Mick helped him back up to the couch, the two finding their original position again. Nikki with his head rested in Mick's lap, legs bent and spread, while Mick put a hand in his hair. Nikki looked to the side a bit once more, kissing the erection next to his face. It sent sparks flying in Mick's pelvis, but the guitarist fought the arousal with all the control he could muster.

Nikki was really fucked up to hell and back, not a sober cell left in his head.

 _"Please let me blow you, I've always wanted to..."_ the younger one tried again with a soft voice that made Mick's heart cry.

He looked at him. Thought about it while Nikki begged with bright baby eyes.

"No, Nikki..."

Nikki's smile didn't fade a bit, and he lifted an arm to pet Mick's thick hair.

" _Baby,"_ he whispered. Mick's stomach jumped this time. He bit his lip, and felt his eyes blur with tears that he hoped Nikki couldn't see in the dark.

"You know you're loved, right?" Mick forced out.

"What?" Nikki closed his eyes, kissing Mick's dick again through his pants.

"We care about you. I care about you. More than anyone else, even my own fucking kids. Stop this, please..." he whispered.

"Stop what? I'm fine... You're acting crazy-" he looked Mick in the eyes again with a deep chuckle.

Mick wanted to say it- to beg him to stop doing so many drugs. To stop snorting coke and anything else people would slip him all day every day, night after night. He worried Nikki would take it too far one of these days, that he would lose him forever. It was only a matter of time before the thin glass he was dancing on shattered to pieces...

But he didn't. It would do no use. He bit his lip, looking away as he shook his head slightly.

 _"Nothing.... never mind."_ He whispered to himself.

Nikki frowned, looking like he was really about to cry. He took a gentle handful of Mick's hair, but didn't know what to do with it after that. So he held it, close to the bandana across Mick's forehead.

 _"Don't cry, baby,"_ he begged.

"'M not," Mick insisted.

"You are-" Nikki couldn't finish his sentence before a thick tear fell right on his cheek. Mick stared in horror at it, before wiping it away. Nikki nuzzled his hand as soon as it touched his face.

They sat like that for what felt like eternity; alone together in the darkness of a silent tour bus that reeked. Nikki high on drugs, Mick not nearly as drunk as he wanted to be anymore. More tears slipped from the older man's eyes, but he said nothing. Neither did Nikki.

 _"I love you too, you know..."_ The bassist breathed after an unknown amount of time went by.

What Mick wanted to say was _yes, I know, you've told me-_ but he found he couldn't. He just couldn't believe it. He really wanted to, but... maybe if this friend wasn't higher than a kite, all of this would be a different story. Maybe then Nikki _would_ be blowing him, and Mick would never stop believing that his friend did truly love him.

"I'll prove it to you, when I'm sober tomorrow. I'll tell you again."

_Had Mick said all that outloud?_

"I'll let you know how much I love you!" Nikki made it a plan.

"Okay..." Mick whispered, forcing a convincing smile.

Nikki returned the toothy grin, rolling onto his side to rest his cheek on top of Micks softening dick. He grabbed Mick's wrist again, guiding his hand once more to his neck. Mick pet him. Down his throat, just under his shirt collar, up to his scalp where he played with his ratty hair.

It would be nice, he thought, if Nikki did say he loved him while thinking clearly. A little weird, but nice none the less... Maybe it would be the first time someone had told him and genuinely meant it.

Mick looked out of the tinted window at the passing moon, trying again to remember how long they had been on tour and where they were going next. Nikki eventually fell asleep in his lap, curled up as close as possible while Mick held him tight. He thought about inviting Nikki to live with him when they got back to LA. Maybe it would help keep the guy away from drug dealers, off streets he didn't belong on and out of his own dangerous mind.

Maybe. Maybe not. Being back home seemed like a sick joke at this point. No one was ever sober long enough at one time to even figure out how many more shows were actually left. So he put the idea in the back of his head for later, and drifted off to the sound of Nikki's breathing. Mick held him close to both his body and his heart, knowing he was safe in his hold for at least one night.


End file.
